Catalogue note for Sotheby's: "Gerhard Richter, Mädchen im Liegestuhl, 1964"

Gerhard Richter, Mädchen im Liegestuhl (Girl in Deckchair), 1964

Gerhard Richter, Mädchen im Liegestuhl (Girl in Deckchair), 1964

Sotheby’s London

29 June 2011

Deriving from the early period of his highly influential career, Mädchen im Liegestuhl (Girl in Deckchair) is a stunning photo-painting that exemplifies the quintessence of Gerhard Richter’s oeuvre. Exceptional on account of its very early date and its flawless execution, the work’s ethereal beauty also carries an underlying intellectual rigor that helped re-define contemporary painting, as well as conceptual genres.

Painted in a blurred, quasi-Impressionistic manner, Liegestuhl vacillates between figuration and abstraction, as it dismantles into a matrix of semi-abstract marks when viewed at close range. The geometric shape of the deckchair invites the viewer to take a step back; suddenly, the image seeps into our consciousness and grows in stature and complexity as we perceive it from afar. Richter’s strong pattern of lateral striations and sfumato blurring of contours give the work its delicate beauty. The brushwork is gracefully fluid: each individual stroke is lightly feathered into another, creating an alluring surface that undulates before the viewer. As if catching a glimpse of a passing moment in our transient world, the image is rendered a fragile illusion.

In the early 1960s, fast-paced mass-media photography replaced pictorial memory. This technological revolution had a direct impact on artistic production. The new form of visual art that appeared broke with tradition, as it incorporated the regular flow of press images. Following in the footsteps of American Pop artists, such as Rauchenberg, Warhol and Lichtenstein, Richter began using mass media images as a source for his work. This strategy of appropriation engaged with Duchampian debate, and to a certain extent with Walter Benjamin’s writings, as it subverted traditional artistic notions such as creativity, originality and high art in the age of reproducibility.

At a time when artists were putting down their brush in favor of less traditional approaches to artistic creation, Richter remained committed to the expressive power of easel painting, producing works as radical as the source photographs on which he based his oeuvre. Hence, the artist’s formal approach to image making was essentially removed from the mechanical processes of Warhol’s silkscreen and Lichtenstein’s pixilation. While Liegestuhl offers the image a photographic appearance, it bears witness to the painter’s actions; thus lending an aura to the photographic vision.

Shortly after its creation, Liegestuhl was shown in the milestone exhibition Neue Realistsen, Richter, Polke, Lueg, held in 1964, at Rudolf Jährling’s Galerie Parnass in Wuppertal. This exhibition was considered by many the pinnacle of the Kapitalistischer Realismus movement, within which Richter’s photo-paintings from this period are often classified. Occasionally satirical in their approach, the Capitalist Realists appropriated the pictorial shorthand of advertising. Depicting the mundane through ghostly blurred photographs, the movement sought to communicate a different intention to American Pop by representing a broader experience, a wider view of reality. This significant distinction is epitomized in Liegestuhl, as the source image finds its roots in the banal activities of everyday life. 

The composition of Liegestuhl was sourced in a photographic image from a 1962 German newspaper, illustrated on page five of Richter’s monumental cataloguing project Atlas. In the foreground, the work depicts a carefree woman lying in a deckchair among nature’s elements: earth, sea and sky. At first glance, the photograph may seem innocuous and prosaic; however, upon closer inspection, one realizes that we are peering through the subjective lens of Richter’s social agenda. Hence, although the work emanates feelings of freedom and serenity, it is also a powerful commentary on German bourgeois life of the early 1960s.

The artist revisits this theme in 1965 with Liegestuhl II. While there are marked similarities between the composition and subject matter of the two paintings, notable differences emanate – namely, the anonymity of the figure depicted in Liegestuhl I. The viewer craves to see the woman’s face and to have a human connection with her. However, Richter chooses to deliberately blur and distort his subject, draining her individuality from the painting and merging her with the upcoming wave. The artist’s blurring technique significantly alters the language of the photograph, consequently subverting its meaning. ‘I blur so that nothing will have an overdone, artistic look, but instead will be technical, smooth, perfect. Maybe I also blur the superfluous, unimportant information’ (Richter, Textes, p.32). In Liegestuhl, only the message remains, the subject is nullified and thus no longer stands for herself but becomes the personification of middle-class capitalist life in Germany at the time. This poignant tour de force acts as both a painterly and cerebral response to the societal climate of Western Europe in the early 1960s, as it actively engages with both identity politics and aesthetic theory. 

Simultaneously creating and obscuring a fleeting moment, Liegestuhl is an evocative image exemplifying Richter’s virtuosity with paint. Testifying to much more than a visually reported fact, the painting does not merely document mass-media data, it presents the viewer with a unique cultural commentary. Richter’s fastidious manipulation of this image constituted his own distinctive version of Pop, which challenged the cultural presumptions of the 1960s and still remains relevant today. Mesmerizing the viewer, Liegestuhl confirms Richter’s place as a highly pivotal figure in Contemporary art. 

Catalogue note for Sotheby's: "Giorgio de Chirico: Cavalli Presso un Castello"

Giorgio de Chirico, Cavalli Presso un Castello, c. 1961

Giorgio de Chirico, Cavalli Presso un Castello, c. 1961

Published in Sotheby’s London: Impressionist & Modern Art Day Sale Auction Catalogue, February 2011

Giorgio de Chirico had posited: ‘To become truly immortal, a work of art must escape all human limits: logic and common sense will only interfere. But once these barriers are broken, it will enter the realms of childhood visions and dreams’ (Charles Harrison & Dr Paul Wood, Art in Theory, 1900-2000: An Anthology of Changing Ideas, London, 2002, p. 58).

Depicting three horses in a near caricatural and expressionistic style. Cavalli presso un castello dramatically revisits one of de Chirico’s most iconic images, reaffirming the subject within the artist’s œvure. Although the work was executed at a time when the art scene found itself divided between abstraction and figuration, the artistic style is reminiscent of the baroque, as it recalls a painterly approach. A true pioneer of his time, de Chirico was one of the few artists who sought to innovate contemporary approaches to painting, while reinterpreting a classic artistic language anchored in tradition. Hence, the resultant artwork creates a ruptured continuity with past artistic traditions, as well as the artist’s own style.

Catalogue note for Sotheby's: "Pablo Picasso: Femme, peintre et modèle"

Pablo Picasso, Femme, Peintre, Modele, 1953-54

Pablo Picasso, Femme, Peintre, Modele, 1953-54

Published in Sotheby’s London: Impressionist & Modern Art Day Sale Auction Catalogue, February 2011

Femme, Peintre et Modèle is an exquiste illustration of Picasso’s incredible talent for draughtsmanship and the intensity of emotion with which he created the famous series of drawings in the winter of 1953-54, of which the present work is one.

Writing about this period, Marie-Laurencin Bernadac observed: ‘Between 18th November 1953 and 3rd February 1954, Picasso shut himself away in the deserted villa and produced at a dizzying pace 180 drawings which have as their central theme the painter and his model. Some of them additionally summon up and incorporate themes from the past: the circus, clowns acrobats and monkeys. Others anticipate the future: masks, old age, eroticism, jokes at the expense of the painter’s trade, the comedy of the art milieu (Late Picasso, Paintings, Sculpture, Drawings and Prints 1953-1972, The Tate Gallery, London, 1988, p. 51).

Thesis for The Courtauld Institute of Art: "The Facture Factor: Tracing the Artist's Hand and its Value in the Changing Art Museum"

Andy Warhol, Campbell's Soup Cans, 1962

Andy Warhol, Campbell's Soup Cans, 1962

Published by The Courtauld Institute of Art, 2010

Challenging Walter Benjamin’s premise of aural alienation in the age of mechanical reproduction, this dissertation explores the sustainability of the aura in works of art that dissolve the romantic notion of the artist’s touch. In doing so, it will examine the decline of eighteenth and nineteenth-century cast courts, and the unfeasibility of André Malraux’s proposed Museum Without Walls, as these display methodologies tried to do without the original work of art. Focusing on the specific cult of the artist, this research paper will further scrutinize the artistic production of Old Master studios, as well as modern and contemporary artist factories, both of which employed workshop assistants, fostering a disconnection between the artist and his craft. Suggesting that aura and facture are not necessarily related, this dissertation will argue that a workshop-crafted artwork’s aural quality is upheld through the cult of the celebrity artist.

The analysis will largely be based on aesthetic theory, as well as the scholarly knowledge brought forth by archival material, catalogues, annual reports and interviews with artists, museum professionals and auctioneers. While this thesis largely focuses on the specific case studies at hand, the project develops a model for thinking about the cult of the maker and the cult of the artist within the museological sphere.

Press release for The Courtauld Gallery: "Blood Tears Faith Doubt, Historical and Contemporary Encounters"

Mark Fairnington, The Greek Madonna, 1993

Mark Fairnington, The Greek Madonna, 1993

Published by The Courtauld Gallery, 17 June 2010

The Courtauld Gallery, London

17 June - 18 July 2010

BLOOD TEARS FAITH DOUBT, Historical and Contemporary Encounters draws parallels between works of art from the 15th century to the present day to address themes of suffering, compassion, devotion and belief. It juxtaposes works to provoke an emotive response and to emphasise the continuing power of religious imagery, even in the secular context of the art gallery. This thought- provoking exhibition brings together painting, sculpture, works on paper, photography and decorative arts, and has been curated by students on The Courtauld Institute of Art’s MA programme Curating the Art Museum. Drawn from The Courtauld Gallery and the Arts Council Collection, it includes, among others, Old Masters Polidoro da Caravaggio and Giovanni Domenico Tiepolo, and contemporary artists Adam Chodzko, Siobhán Hapaska, and Grayson Perry. 

BLOOD TEARS FAITH DOUBT stages two encounters: between the works themselves, sparking dialogue between images of striking or surprising similarity; and between the works and the beholder, whose engagement and empathy with the subject and its portrayal remains central to the enduring power of religious art. The exhibition unites works from the Western tradition of Christian art and contemporary works that resonate with that tradition. It explores how these images were used and viewed historically, and considers whether their appropriation in contemporary art can evoke the same intensity of emotion as they did in the past. 

The central themes of BLOOD TEARS FAITH DOUBT are explored in the exhibition in rooms 11 and 12 of The Courtauld Gallery in three sections: mother and child; devotion; faith and incredulity. The first section presents images of the Madonna in various attitudes. She is seen as nurturing mother in Virgin and Child with Saint Jerome (1510-30) by Giampietrino, in Mark Fairnington’s The Greek Madonna (1993), and in the disturbing imagery of Grayson Perry’s Spirit Jar (1994). In Giovanni Domenico Tiepolo’s Lamentation over the Dead Christ (18th century), she is presented as a bereft and grieving figure. The Pietà is further recalled in the sculpted hand holding wilted flowers of Phil Brown’s Untitled (Hand) (1994). 

In the pivotal space of the darkened central room, two intimate, small-scale devotional works – Christ Crowned with Thorns by a follower of Dieric Bouts (c.1475) and an ivory diptych (14th century) featuring the Madonna and Child and a Lamentation scene – are presented in a setting which recalls their original function and power. 

In the final space, in striking contrast, life-size works confront the viewer. In Polidoro da Caravaggio’s painting Incredulity of Saint Thomas (1531-35), the disciple demands tangible proof of Christ’s resurrection. Alongside, Siobhán Hapaska’s Saint Christopher (1995) is a disturbingly real and immediate physical presence. Elsewhere, Adam Chodzko’s Secretors (1993), blood-red droplets of ‘manifestation juice’, are a subliminal presence, a ‘seepage from other realities’, as the artist describes them. 

This innovative exhibition offers the opportunity to experience rarely-seen and diverse works in unusual and provocative conversation. 

Review for Courtauld Reviews: "Yinka Shonibare, Nelson's Ship in a Bottle"

Yinka Shonibare, Nelson's Ship in a Bottle, 2010

Yinka Shonibare, Nelson's Ship in a Bottle, 2010

Published by Courtauld Reviews, Issue 5, June 2010

Fourth Plinth, London

24 May 2010 - 30 January 2012

Unveiled in Trafalgar Square in May 2010, Yinka Shonibare’s Nelson’s Ship in a Bottle now boldly adorns the fourth plinth. Vastly contrasting with the plinth’s previous occupant, the stoic (and, shall we say, humdrum) statue of Battle of Britain hero Sir Keith Park, Shonibare’s artwork playfully toys with the limits of kitsch, while still managing to retain strong political undertones. 

Memorializing the Battle of Trafalgar, the sculpture is the first commission for the fourth plinth suggestive of Trafalgar Square’s historical symbolism. As the title of the work suggests, the piece consists of a minutely detailed replica of Lord Nelson’s HMS Victory ship encapsulated in a mammoth Perspex bottle, corked and sealed with red wax. The replica’s seafaring precision only falters when confronted by Shonibare’s trademark batik print textiles, which are used for the ship’s sails. Symbolic of African identity and the legacy of British colonialism, the billowing, bright patterned sails add a new dimension to the work, as they sturdily hint towards postcolonial theory. Thus, the sculpture not only celebrates Nelson’s victory, but also London’s multi-cultural wealth, which, in Shonibare’s own words, ‘still breathes precious wind into the sails of the United Kingdom.’ Though the visual amalgamation of British history and the story of multiculturalism in London verges on camp, it is a successful one since it reflects the complexity of the expansion of British trade subsequent to Nelson’s victory which granted the nation the freedom of the seas. 

Needless to say, Shonibare’s message in a bottle resounds in the Square loud and clear, for all to hear, as the latest commission for the fourth plinth transcends the constrictions of sculpture and becomes a symbol in itself. Moreover, though Shonibare’s work is politically charged, it retains a childlike charm and sense of wonder that is sure to enchant even the most cynical viewer.

Review for Courtauld Reviews: “Henry Moore”

Henry Moore, Recumbent Figure, 1938

Henry Moore, Recumbent Figure, 1938

Published by Courtauld Reviews, Issue 4, March 2010

Tate Britain, London

24 February - 08 August 2010

While the 1988 Henry Moore show at the Royal Academy presented the sculptor as a romantic, Tate Britain attempts to reinvent Moore (1898–1986) as a radical, experimental and avant-garde artist. The artworks are given center stage in this exhibition, uncovering a dark and erotically charged dimension to Moore’s work that incites visitors to revisit their preconceived notions of one of Britain’s best-loved sculptors. Through the presentation of over 150 stone sculptures, wood carvings, bronzes and drawings by the artist, the exhibition explores the trauma of war, the advent of psychoanalysis, and new ideas of sexuality, non-western art and surrealism as frameworks within which Moore can be reborn. 

While the show’s revisionist aims are clearly stated in the introductory panel and constantly reiterated throughout the exhibition by means of wall texts and quotes, it is questionable whether these aims are successfully communicated to the viewer. The gallery spaces are decidedly empty of information. The wall panels are sparse and the object labels only provide tombstone information. Similarly, the room divisions seem disparate and the display of works, random. While some rooms explore Moore’s cultural influences (Room 1: World Cultures), others focus on subject matter (Room 2: Mother and Child), isms (Room 3: Modernism), historical periods (Room 4: Wartime and Room 5: Post-War) and materials (Room 6: Elm). For some visitors, this lack of direction may privilege a sensory response to the artworks or encourage viewers to address their own subjectivity. For others, the schizophrenic structure of the exhibition may elicit mystification and misunderstanding. While the exhibition engages with the canonical narrative of modernism and gestures towards meaning, there is no coherent grand narrative, as it is riddled with inconsistency. Hence, the show can be described as distinctly postmodern, but is this postmodern construction intentional? 

The answer is not immediately clear, as today’s art museum is a postmodern construction in itself. The curator is no longer the sole voice in an exhibition, since different departments often have divergent agendas. This has created a decentered museum and is reflected in the microcosm of the narrative of the Henry Moore exhibition, which also possesses a plurality of voices. Thus, perhaps the more interesting question is: Have the curators made a conscious intellectual choice to present the material in a postmodern way, or is the exhibition an indirect result of the postmodern construct of society in late-capitalism which also formulates the structure of the museum? The most plausible answer appears to be simply both. While the exhibition presents a revision of modernism, the decentered museum structure shapes and emphasizes the postmodern convolution of the narrative. 

Arguably, the audio-guide provides the strongest reading of the exhibition, as it successfully pulls together these different voices. Without it, the various modes of interpretation do not interrelate. In many ways, this digital technology becomes a lifebuoy to navigate the exhibition, as it constructs threads of meaning throughout a gallery space which often lacks cogency. Moore’s Reclining Figures and Mother and Child themes, for example, are interspersed in the various rooms, creating a sense of continuity. Similarly, the audio commentary constantly refers back to Moore’s approach to materiality, as well as elements from the artist’s biography, to construct the meaning of the various works included. It can be argued that these different ribbons running through the exhibition by means of the audio-guide give the exhibition its “true” meaning, negating to a certain extent its postmodern structure. 

While it is difficult to assess if the curatorial aim of the exhibition has been attained, it is immediately clear as one walks through the gallery space that there is ‘Moore’ to the artist than meets the eye. Arguably, this is where the success of Tate’s Henry Moore exhibition lies.